


prayed for a push

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, kink meme fill, min-fill, my random headcannons are just sprinkled through, no beta we die like Glenn, oh no we enjoy each others company and people keep seating us together what does that MEAN, romcom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27075988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Balthus and Constance end up seated together at a wedding...and then the next.
Relationships: Balthazar von Adalbrecht | Balthus von Albrecht/Constance von Nuvelle
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13
Collections: Anonymous, FE3H Kink Meme





	prayed for a push

**Author's Note:**

> written for this prompt: https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1608.html?thread=3114056&posted=1
> 
> always the bridesmaid, never the bride!

Constance pulled at the lace edge of the tablecloth. Her appetizer was picked over, fresh sourdough breadcrumbs stuck under her nails. Her entree sat untouched.

  
“I don’t see why we are seated together,” she muttered.

Balthus downed his drink, waiving over the waiter to pour another. Wedding seating wasn’t his forte. He guessed they were together because they were both Ashen Wolves, and then both honorary Golden Deer. 

And they were both still single.

Hapi and Yuri had been each others plus 1 and placed at another table with couples from their school days. Claude— no longer Duke Riegan but King of the Alliance— made this his first public appearance since abdicating. Lysithea sat beside of him; last Balthus had heard, she rejected his marriage proposal, but maybe they were trying to work things out? His gossip source hadn’t said anything beyond the initial rejection. Claude looked happy enough, but he could always fake that.

Byleth and Shamir were beside them, small smiles on their usually stoic faces. Others from their school years filled in the gaps. At the table of honor sat Hilda and Marianne— Hilda had apparently helped planned everything and was the one he could blame for the seating arrangement. The grooms themselves sat in front of a feast, Raphael with a dress shirt that actually did button and Ignatz stuck with what seemed like a permanent blush.

It wasn’t that he minded being sat with Constance. He respected her; believed in her even when she didn’t believe in herself. She always had his back, and his hers. 

What bothered him was that she kept _complaining_ about it. Like being stuck with him was miserable. There were definitely worst people to be sat with.

“Could’ve sat beside Ferdinand. He’d try to marry you all night. He’d be at your cottage and request to court before the end of the week.”

“I guess you are correct. I am still not speaking to him.” Constance’s voice drops. She had managed to outgrow most of her sunshine persona in the few years since the end of war, but it wasn’t completely gone.

Balthus knew she still didn’t trust the other man. He regretted bringing it up.

Constance clears her throat, bring him out of his thoughts. “Do you think I could…have some of your drink? Perhaps that would make me less burdensome. I apologize for complaining. It’s not my intent to make your feelings match my own.”

He wants her to be her loud, bristling self. To be comfortable around him above ground.

“It’s not too strong. Maybe I can convince a waiter to drop us off the real liquor.” He slides his glass over to her.

She drinks it down in 3 gulps. He can’t help but smile.

*

Annette and Felix are next to get married. They both teach at Garreg Mach and decide the cathedral is the perfect place for vows.

Most guests stay in a nearby village, but former students stay in empty dormitories. Yuri already had them spots in Abyss, clean rooms tucked in a secret hallway. Balthus doesn’t care much for nostalgia but it felt nice to be back in a place that helped create him, make him better.

Their lodgings had a comfortable couch and a large full-length mirror in the sitting room. He played solitaire, watching out the corner of his eye while Constance sat on the floor brushing out her curls. She looked lost in thought.

Suddenly he realized he doesn’t remember what she’s doing right now. What’s happening in her life. It hits him that she must think he doesn’t care. She wrote letters, sometimes 2-3 piling up for him at time while he’s gone protecting Claude. Balthus had never been good at writing letters, and his work helping Claude with Almyrian/Former Alliance relations had taken up much of his time. He’s sure she bragged about something when writing him.

“I uh…” he started, thinking of how to ask _Constance literally what are you doing in life_ without sounding like an asshole. 

She doesn’t even glance at him. She’s staring in the mirror, still brushing from root to tip. Her hair is still long, almost waist-length, impossibly blonde and violet. He finds he wants to feel the strands in between his fingers.

He flipped a card over and finally spoke.

“You thinking about something Lady?”

Her shoulders jump like he scared her. “Just some calculations for an experiment. It’s the big one I told you about! Trying to study some of the Agarthan’s technology to see if any of it could be useful in our everyday lives!”

He didn’t remember at all. How terrible of him, he thought.

“Do you think it’ll work?” he asked lamely. She turned to him, eyes bright.

“Annette has helped me. This is everything we have gathered thus far…”

Balthus listened, hoping it would assuage the guilt he felt.

Constance laid out her glorious plans to him, which he could only half follow but hung onto every word. She was fucking smart. He knew that already but it shocked him every time.

She went to the get dressed and Yuri came and took her place at the mirror. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Yuri started.

“Plan on behaving this time?”

“What do you mean?”

“Last wedding you and the formerly Shady Lady got…very drunk. Almost disorderly.”

“We were not disorderly! We were just…”

“I’ve literally seen you less loud at taverns, tab maxed out. You two were drunk. Having a great time though…”

Balthus eyed Yuri. “Are you trying to say we shouldn’t have a good time?”

He did not like how Yuri grinned, like he had him in a trap.

“No, please, I encourage the two of you to enjoy yourselves. Just try and use your inside voices if you decide to imbibe.”

*

They were sat together at a teeny table with Yuri and Hapi though the pair was up and alternating between dancing and going to the dessert table.

It wasn’t as bad as last time, but Constance couldn’t help but feel left out. Not because of her status. Claude made the new Alliance leaders swear a large chunk of land over to her before he left. She hasn’t decided where yet, but the thought sustained her.

Felix and Annette and some others had even renounced their familial lands. And they were happy, getting married amongst the friends they had left. The cathedral was packed for the ceremony and the entrance hall, decorated for dinner, felt like even more people had arrived. She sat snug between Balthus and the wall, very sober.

“We should drink again.”

“Yeah, about that…Yuri stopped me before the ceremony and told me we couldn’t get like we did last time…”

That set off her nerves. Did they do something improper? Something that would sully the name she just earned the right to be proud of again?

“What did we do?” she asked behind gritted teeth.

“Talked real loud, apparently.”

“But we’re always loud.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I guess it was worse than normal. Also it’d be hard to get that drunk. Only wine tonight.”

“I guess I will endeavor to behave. Hopefully we can abide by whatever standards Yuri has suddenly decided are important.”

Minutes later, Sylvain comes and tips a flask over into their empty flutes.

“Hard stuff for the happy couple, yeah?” He winked.

“I don’t…”

“We’re not…” They started at the same time but Sylvain shook his head.

“Not interested in whatever lies you’re telling yourself, leave that shit to me. I’ll be back later if you need topped off.”

Balthus instantly started sipping.

“Strong strong _strong,”_ he hissed, more to warn her than anything.

Constance drank hers much slower. A blush stained her cheeks and she’d look at him and then quickly dart her eyes away.

“I…he…do people really think we’re a couple?”

“Apparently so Lady. It can’t be that bad though. You have to admit, I’m pretty hot.”

The blush deepened. Constance wished the floor would swallow her up, or that she could get up and dance and dance and get rid of every bit of energy this conversation has given her.

She hated she was like this.

“I guess…there could be worse people to be tied to.”

“ _Worse people._ Thanks.” Balthus said. He knocked back the rest of his drink and stood up. She found herself upset that he was leaving…No, they didn’t come _together_ but they did come together and were seated side-by-side again, and they had so much fun last time…

A hand shook in front of her to get her attention.

“Asked if you wanted to dance Constance. Gotta lot of energy for some reason.”

Had she ever seen him ask someone to traditionally dance? She couldn’t keep the wide small off of her face.

She grasped his hand and rose.

“Lead the way.”

*

Her letters came about once a week, and Balthus paid off a few delivery people to make sure they came to him in time enough to reply and not look like a dickhead. Most were about her experiments, done alone now that Annette was married and teaching full time at Garreg Mach.

Her last letter had a bit of shady Constance in it. 

“She signed off: _Some nights it hurts, being this alone. But I’m working on things I’m proud of and restoring the Nuvelle name! It’s all I ever wanted._ ”

“Wow.”

“And she said: _Hoping to see you soon_.”

Claude lowered the importantly, kingly correspondence he was working on, and smiled at Balthus.

“The girl is lonely.”

“Lonely enough to tell me…which is unusual.” Balthus scratched a sideburn. 

Claude kept smiling, turning back to this paperwork though Balthus knew it was a front. He’d protected the Almyran King for a little while now, and he knew when the man was plotting.

Best thing to do was call him out on it.

“What are you planning?”

“Nothing, of course.”

Balthus started scratching out his response instead of replying. Eventually Claude cleared his throat.

“I’ll give you a break this time. Maybe I’m planning a way for her to see you soon.”

“And why’s that?”

“We all deserve to be happy,” is all the Unification King said in response.

*

Lysithea had told her not to worry about what she wore, but Constance ended up sewing herself a lavender dress, just a shade or two lighter than Lysithea’s main colorway. She wasn’t the best seamstress, but the darts ended up flattering on her chest and the skirt ended up swishy enough to hide her uneven hemming. On the carriage ride to Almyra, about 4 days from the Leicester cabin she’d been staying in, she freaked out the whole way about wearing the _exact same colors_ as the future Almyran Queen at said Queen’s wedding.

The relief she felt when she saw Lysithea in deep purple, accented with buttery yellow, almost made her weep.

Almost made her forget the awkward letters her and Balthus had exchanged, since Lysithea and Claude asked that they be the only members of the wedding party, and the only people privy to the ceremony.

“You alright Lady?” Balthus’ deep voice met her as she opened the carriage door. She clung to his offered hand, focusing on not tripping. Her nerves were frazzled and she knew why. But they hadn’t talked about it out loud.

Maybe it wouldn’t end like she imagined. That thought was almost too much to bear.

“Just a long trip,” she said. “We were almost late. I had to get changed on the way.”

“Scandalous.” He kept hold of her hand and led her away from the happy couple.

“They have some things to finish up before the ceremony…not sure what, Claude has something going on that I can’t figure out. But there’s a little sitting room with some snacks if you’re ready.”

They sat together on a padded bench. Constance sipped on lukewarm tea and ate a cucumber sandwich. She was starving, but her stomach still turned with nerves.

“I…I’m glad you asked me to accompany you to the wedding. I know members of the wedding party don’t have to do that.”

He let out a soft laugh, nudging his knee into hers.

“The two weddings we’ve been to have been the most fun I’ve had at something like that. I guess…why don’t we just go to them all together.”

He looked at her face; she noticed he was serious now. Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“Well that’s what married people do.”

“And courting. Have to start there before you get to the marriage thing.”

Despite the tea she felt parched. She couldn’t do anything but look at him.

“Okay if you want to say no, say it.” 

He started to get up but she grabbed his hand.

“Wait! I just had to get over my initial surprise. I didn’t realize that you…”

“Liked you?” he offered.

“Liked me back,” she finished.

“Liked you…back.”

It was her turn to laugh. She pulled up all her bravery and grabbed his hand.

*

After the ceremony was a small reception, another plotted out by Hilda, that was just the Golden Deer, Byleth and Shamir, and Lysithea’s parents. The head table was the lucky couple, with Balthus and Constance seated on one side and the parents on the other.

It was the smallest wedding they’d been to, but definitely was the most rowdy. Raphael brought beer and booze with him, and the rest of Deer were apt to partake. Balthus held back, especially after Claude’s mid meal announcement that he was abdicating another throne. And essentially leaving him homeless.

“I have things lined up for you,” Claude had said, clapping the man’s back in a tight hug. Change sucked but was inevitable. Balthus forgive him, not after giving him shit a for a few minutes.

Constance had danced with everyone, including twice with Hapi, before Balthus finally cut in.

“I don’t think I’m sober enough for a formal dance.”

“Good. I’ll just hold you.” 

She locked her hands around his neck and he held the small of her back. She felt good. She felt like his, and he hers.

It was a nice feeling. He fit in lots of places but he never truly belonged anywhere until the Ashen Wolves. Constance was a huge part of the before.

And the after too.

“What do you want to do, after this?” she asked, looking up at him. Her purple headband pushed her hair back, allowing him to see right into her eyes. Her look was so clear. Like it saw right through his bullshit and into the meat the things.

“Nurse a hangover in the morning and then ride home with you to take a look at your cabin. You need anything fixed?”

She laughed and laid her head on his chest.

“I might have something I'm not capable of fixing myself. You can come check just in case.”

**Author's Note:**

> title from funeral singers by sylvan esso
> 
> calling this a mini-fill bc i REALLY wanted to get it filled but posted it now to get over the "this need to be perfects."
> 
> no beta but i plan on combing through later!


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